Max stood there, cursing the day she had been born. It wasn't the first time and certainly wouldn't be the last. Dean was right. She was powerful and yet so gullible. When will I learn from my mistakes?

Dean cleared his throat after she was silent for a minute. She seemed like she was lost in thought. He just hoped it was her thoughts and not his. God only knows what she would find in his memories.

Her eyes refocused on him. She knew she could trust him with the truth. She wanted to trust him with the truth. If anyone could understand, at least in part, it would be the man standing in front of her.

"Can I put a shirt on and sit down?" she requested, feeling extremely vulnerable and exposed. "My head is still swimming a little."

Dean nodded. Her heaving chest had been threatening to distract him since she stood up. Sure she was a witch, had lied to him and illegally downloaded his memories, but she was still hot.

Max walked over to where her hoodie and t-shirt lay on the floor by the couch. She grabbed the red t-shirt and quickly slid it over her head. She motioned towards the couch in front of her as a request to sit there. Again Dean nodded and so she sat.

"So, this misinformation?"

"I had been…away…from the world for a while," she started, wanting to tell him the truth but there were just some things she wasn't ready to tell him, didn't know how to tell him.

"In outer space? A desert island? Hell?" Dean drolly responded wanting specifics.

A shudder racked her body at the mention of Hell. A memory solidified from all that had been jammed into her brain. She could feel the flesh being peeled from her bones, the parchness of her throat. Her ears were flooded with the cries of despair and pain. And behind it all a small sickening joy that she was the cause of some of those screams. Dean.

He saw the look in her eyes. "Stop right now. You have no right to my memories. I don't want anything from you but the truth. Save your pity for someone who gives a damn."

She wanted to tell him that she didn't pity him at all, but marveled at his strength. She knew what it was like to be a torturer and murderer, except her victims were innocents. And her sins broke her. She knew he wouldn't listen or believe her, so decided to go with her story.

"I was living off the grid, in China." Not a lie, she assured herself. "And when I rejoined society, I was a little naïve about the ways the world had changed."

"It couldn't have changed that much," Dean interjected. "You couldn't have been away that long."

"150 years," she said softly, thinking she might as well get it over with. It's not like he could like her any less right now.

"What?!?" Dean was oh so unhappy.

Loud and clear she replied, "I was in a sort of stasis for 150 years. It was supposed to be longer." Like forever. "But there was a shift in the balance a few years ago and it broke the spell."

Just when Dean thought he couldn't be surprised anymore. "Exactly how old are you?"

No stopping now, she thought. "Oh, just, um, fifteen hundred and eighty or so."

Dean nearly choked. "Fifteen…..hundred?"

"Oh, come on!" she replied indignantly. "You know lots of people way older than me. I mean, you've hung out with G-, errr, Chuck and you have an angel as a best friend!"

She had a point. "But I've never made out with any of them!" Dean defended himself.

She gave him a knowing look.

"Hey, what happens in purgatory stays in purgatory," he warned.

She raised up her hands signaling she was giving up. "Yeah, I know it's a long time," she sounded defeated. "I don't generally let people know my age because then they find out about my abilities, and then they try to use me for whatever their agenda is. And I'm too stupid to not get stuck in the same pattern. I always think it'll be different."

There was something about that sadness in her voice and shame in her eyes that made a small chip in his wall. He knew the feeling of always trying to do what was right and most of the time it turning into a disaster. How many people had he trusted that had turned on him?

Nope, not going down this road, Dean told himself. "So, you were asleep for a century and a half and when you woke up…" Dean had to get this conversation back on track. He was not going to like her.